


Green to Gold

by romanticalgirl



Category: Brothers & Sisters
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rustling of the past</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green to Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) for the first beta pass. All changes and mistakes therein are my own. For [](http://jacosta3.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://jacosta3.livejournal.com/)**jacosta3** who requested a little glimpse into Kevin's past
> 
> Originally posted 4-4-07

He doesn’t go looking, because doing that would imply that he’s desperate, and he’s not, no matter how he feels. But if he’s honest with himself – which he’s far too good at being, though he manages to temper it with amazing depth of denial – he is desperate, though he’s not quite sure what for.

The bar is too dark for the bright sunlight outside, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. The thick smell of beer is a relief after the sharp tang of orange. He doesn’t look around – he’s not _that_ desperate – just heads for a stool and settles onto it, managing a faint smile at the bartender as he looks up.

Of course, he’s forgotten his universe thrives on coincidence and irony.

“What’ll it be?”

“Beer.” Kevin glances at the taps and selects one, his gaze surreptitiously moving over the bartender. He’s older – but then, who isn’t? – but he still looks the same. Tanned and sun-warmed, like his skin is hot to the touch, even in the dark shadow of the bar.

He still looks the part of the quintessential surfer. His hair is bleached to nearly white by the sun. His green eyes are bright, crinkles at the corners from smiling and squinting. He sets the beer in front of Kevin. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.” Kevin wraps his hand around the glass, trying to avert his eyes from his smile.

“You guys really going to sell the ranch house?”

Kevin looks up, surprised. “What?”

“You don’t think the Walkers selling the ranch house and orchards is big news around here?”

“More that you knew who I was.”

Tucker smiles. “Tommy, right?”

Kevin manages to keep his smile in place for as long as it takes the drown the moment in a swallow of beer.

Tucker laughs and taps the back of Kevin’s hand. “I’m kidding, Kevin.” His grin widens slightly, the same lines bracketing his smile. “You kind of made an impression.”

“Did I?” He can’t help the words or the embarrassed flush that accompanies them.

“Yeah.” Tucker’s fingers settle on Kevin’s knuckles, his thumb brushing Kevin’s fingers lightly. “Yeah.”

Kevin wets his lips and takes another swallow of beer, holding Tucker’s eyes. “Some stuff happened. Made the sale unnecessary.”

“So it’s still yours?”

Kevin risks a glance at Tucker’s hand on his and then back up to the slow easy smile, the same smile that had seduced him before. “Tree house and all.” He flushes again and laughs. “Well, not really, since Justin and his girlfriend sort of fell through the floor.”

Tucker taps the back of Kevin’s hand again and pulls his own away. “Pity.”

“Yeah.” Kevin sighs.

“You know, Walker, I get off at six. We could have dinner. Catch up.”

“Catch up.”

Tucker smiles and Kevin knows the fact that they have absolutely nothing in common and were never anything resembling friends is still very clearing both of their minds. “Yeah.”

“I’ll pick up some beer and some food,” Kevin manages, sliding off the stool. “And meet you at my place?”

Tucker smiles. “Hopefully somewhere more comfortable than the tree house.”

“We’ve got a ranch style bunk house.”

Tucker leans in, the hot green eyes full of promise. “Not quite what I have in mind.”

**

Kevin stops at the store and picks up a six pack of beer and browses the aisle long enough that he’s sure no one he knows is anywhere around, save for old Mr. Campbell at the counter. One of the things about small towns and big families is that everyone knows your name, whether you want them to or not. Still, enough kids around here probably bought condoms and beer that the third item shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows, even ones as bushy as Mr. Campbell’s.

“Still having sex with boys then, are you, Kenny?”

“It’s Kevin, sir.”

“Whatever. You’re still takin’ it up the ass, are you?”

“Giving sometimes too, sir.”

Campbell laughs and tosses a copy of Playgirl on the pile of Kevin’s purchases. “Free of charge, Walker.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, though I should charge you more for all the ones you stole before I moved ‘em back here.”

“You moved them back there so you could look at the naked girls, Mr. Campbell.”

“That’s because I, at least, got taste.” He bags everything up and smiles at Kevin, two teeth missing from the middle of his grin. “Boobies are much better lookin’ in a magazine that willies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kevin assures him with a smile, sliding his money across the counter. “Though it doesn’t matter how nice they look if they don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s your problem, boy, not mine.” He passes Kevin his change and hands him the bag. “I’d tell ya not to do anythin’ I wouldn’t do, but then you’d not need the stuff you actually bought, would you?”

Kevin’s still smiling when he gets to the car, Campbell’s admonition that kids never change ringing in his ears. The drive to the house is short, and he watches the trees, inhaling the sharply scented air as it buffets him through the open roof.

The ranch house looks the same as always, though the shattered remains of Justin’s last foray into the tree house lie beneath it, splinters of wood and dust. Kevin stands beneath it, staring up into the arms of the tree and the small alcove of peace he’d needed far more than the two times he’d mentioned to Scotty.

Of course, of all the times, those two had been the far most memorable.

**

He’d suffered the ribbing of his sisters and brothers and father. He’d even borne the worried look of his mother before they’d headed out for the drive to the beach, arguing and shoving good-naturedly. He’d waited until everyone had left and then grabbed his books and the six pack of beer he’d managed to get Sarah to buy him the night before.

He sat up in the tree house and stared out through the leaves, watching the tops of the orange trees in the distance. The air smelled sweet and light, and the relief of finally being _alone_ settled around him. His life had become this strange labyrinth he didn’t quite understand anymore. Last summer he’d been up here with Sarah - **not** his sister – having sex, then he’d managed to admit to himself and Danny and pretty much everyone in the world, thank you, Kitty, that he was gay, and now…well, now he’s got his books, his beer and, the real reason he’s up here.

He bought it back in LA at some bookstore well off the beaten path of any of his friends, relatives or casual acquaintances. He hadn’t had the guts to hit one of the stores that promised him everything he could ever want for any alternative lifestyle he might choose, so he’d settled for _Playgirl_ and _Esquire_ and a body building magazine.

The sun beat down on the roof of the tree house, making it hotter than it should have been and Kevin spread the blanket out and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. Silence, save for the distant hum of machinery and the call of birds and insects, filled the air around him and he nodded, reaching for the first of the beers. He drank half of it in one long swallow, unwilling to actually _taste_ it.

“Oh, God. This…ugh.” He gagged and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before forcing himself to swill down the rest. He coughed roughly and swallowed, blinking back tears at the taste. “Ack.”

He looked at the other five bottles and shuddered then closed his eyes. “Relax, Kevin. Just…everyone’s gone. Just…just relax.” He kept his eyes closed, letting his hand skate down his chest to his jeans, rubbing lightly at the worn fabric. “Relax.”

He felt his body respond a little and smiled, catching his breath. Breathing slowly, his hand moving, his eyes closed to the heat of the day. His muscles felt languid, liquid as he shifted, his free hand reaching for the magazine as his other moved from the light stroking to actually unfastening his jeans, tugging the zipper down and reaching inside his briefs to free his cock.

“Easy,” he whispered to himself. “Slow and easy.”

He forced his eyes open, focusing on the magazine, his breathing careful and measured for a few moments until sensation kicks in and his control slips, eyes falling closed as his hand moves, his rhythm shifting, speeding up.

“So. Law school.”

Kevin jerked his hand back, scrambling for the forgotten magazine to cover himself. Tucker ignored him, looking instead at the catalog for Stanford.

“Guess I’m not really surprised.”

“Wh…W…what?”

“Just sort of fits.” Tucker shrugged and thumbed through the catalog, glancing briefly in Kevin’s direction. “I thought you were with Sarah Gimble last year.”

“I…what? I mean, yes. I was.” Kevin sat frozen, unsure what he was supposed to do. “We, um. We dated. We…why?”

“Well, I suppose you _could_ be looking at that for the fashion spread.”

Kevin cast a quick glance down at the _Esquire_ tented suspiciously over his erection. “Ah. Um.”

“Don’t worry, Walker. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Kevin shrugged slightly, still careful to keep the magazine in place, trying to ignore the heat flooding his cheeks. “It’s not…well, it’s not actually a secret.”

“Oh?”

“No. My family knows. Most people know.”

Tucker frowned, giving Kevin a curious look. “So why are you hiding out, jerking off in a treehouse?”

“You’ve met my family, right? Maybe you’ve noticed we’re not big on the whole concept of respecting someone’s privacy.”

Tucker laughed and set the catalog aside, sitting on the floor next to Kevin. “I had noticed that.”

“What…?” Kevin exhaled shakily as Tucker shifted closer, facing him. “What are you doing?”

Tucker raised an eyebrow and leaned in, his hand sliding easily under the magazine. His lips grazed Kevin’s jaw, teeth teasing the skin, the promise of more in his voice. “I think it’s pretty clear, Kevin. I’m not respecting your privacy.”

**

Kevin finishes his beer and closes his eyes, inhaling the too familiar scents of orange and dust, oil and heat. He thinks about his life, sore and raw from where he’s clung too tightly to things that weren’t real. Nothing’s been real since his father died, since everything fell apart, shattering into a million different secrets.

Going back doesn’t change that. Doesn’t put the broken pieces back together, doesn’t even provide glue for the things that are just beginning to crack. This is his life. He’s made bad decisions again and again, but this life isn’t one of them. It’s who he is. What he is. And no one made him this way.

And no one can change him. Bad choices though…well, those he can change.

He leaves the rest of the beer on the porch with a quick note of apology. The drive back at sunset is worth the drive up here. If Tucker shows up, he’ll find the beer, he’ll find the note and hopefully he’ll understand.

And if he doesn’t…well, at least Kevin does.  



End file.
